substitute

On the occasion of Kevin DuBrow's death, an anecdote:

I used to work with the king of copy editors, A. He was perfect at his job: knew everything, meticulous, obstinate. A very nice guy outside of work also. He was slender and carried himself in an effeminate way, and had long brown hair parted in the middle.

A. was also seriously into heavy metal music. This was the late 80s, when metal and glam and pop-metal were king, and he was way into that scene. Aside from the long hair it's not something one would have expected, but A. was full of unexpected.

One day someone mentioned Quiet Riot and he said "Oh, I have a story there."

Years and years previous, A. had been shopping at the Ralphs market on Sunset at Poinsettia in West Hollywood. This is colloquially known as the "Rock 'n' Roll Ralphs" because it's right next to the Strip and all the guitar stores.

A. was pushing his cart along looking for peas or something when he noticed a rocker dude trying to get his attention. The guy was very excited and grinning widely.

"Hey!" he said. "Do you play an instrument?"

A. said "Uh yes. I play bass. why?"

"I'll tell you why. I'm Kevin Dubrow and I'm starting up the best heavy metal band in history. You've got the look and the attitude I want. YOU WANNA JOIN UP?"

There was a pause of about five seconds and A. declined the offer politely. Dubrow roared on off to find his next perfect metalhead.

I asked A. if he regretted not getting on the Quiet Riot ride and he said no, he couldn't handle the lifestyle as much as he loved the music.

A. only wore tailored clothes and spoke with a refined, aristocratic accent. He was able to pass as gay well enough to work for years at a gay publication, but from what I heard his dating preference was for the Pamela Anderson type. Oh! And he'd been a pool shark previously in life, but had to give it up because he was too small to collect.

both via the American Punk 78-91 archive at Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/groups/punkarchive/

The 80s music video list that jwz posted today is, of course, a huge pile of crap, but there are some gems.

The Art of Noise's Paranoimia reminds me how much I loved Max Headroom, and how much Max Headroom is like odradak after a few glasses of wine.

Being arty jerks, Bauhaus made great videos, and their cover of Ziggy Stardust is a lovely piece of desaturated aaaart. It was more impressive on a big screen in a nightclub in 1984 at midnight after some beers, though. Most other things wore, except the goddamn .38 Special video they kept showing at that place.

The big screen rule holds for Cabaret Voltaire's wonderful Sensoria as well but if you haven't seen it you must. I want to get a nice big hi-res of this one. The Poltergeist 2 preacher dancing Appalachian style witih the girl. That camera trick. Do right. Do do right.

Good live Gang of Four doing To Hell with Poverty on the Old Grey Whistle Test. Holy crap they're young.

Invisible Touch was a shitty album, but the Spitting Image puppets in the video for Land of Confusion are wonderful.

There's some real chestnuts in there, and by chestnuts I mean forgettable stuff that I wish I'd forgotten. Freur's "Doot Doot", Animotion's "Obsession" (my candidate for most coked out insane 80s video), the Lambada...

Dennes Dale Boon died on this day in 1985. Some people like to remember John Lennon on his death day, for me it's D. Boon and the end of the Minutemen.

D. Boon was a fat guy in a uniquely weird punk band. He was a working class guy with a great mind and a huge heart. I went to countless Minutemen shows for the two years I had the privilege of being his fan. To me he meant a whole world view: resistance to Reaganism, the DIY ethic, punk rock that was passionate for change, and just plain old big sweaty fun.

I saw the Minutemen at colleges, in bars, on big stages, in record stores, on the street, in the middle of nowhere, anywhere they played. I jumped up and down and shouted and sang the lyrics with them, dived for the set list after shows, yelled out requests and got them played. Double Nickels on the Dime was a life-changing record for me.

I want to thank D. Boon for teaching me that resistance is possible, that art is for everyone to make, and that you can dance your ass off and make your point at the same time. I've missed him for 20 years now, but he gave me that.

Here's the first of their songs I ever heard, in 1983 on KPFK:

Little Man with a Gun in his Hand (MP3, 4.5M)